


What's Love Got To Do With It

by ThereAreNoLines



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Angst, F/F, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereAreNoLines/pseuds/ThereAreNoLines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't tell me what I want!" Aria snapped suddenly, unable to take it. It was all too much. Constantly being faced with the choice between Ezra's calm, constant care and Spencer's volatility and vulnerability...it was too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Love Got To Do With It

Love felt like such a hollow word anymore. It only conjured up images of a small apartment, with the left side of the bed empty half the time, an unstocked fridge, and an overused vibrator. This was where her 'love' had taken her, and Spencer wasn't sure she liked it. She reached lazily across the bed to find the sheets rumpled, and the mattress cold, fingers brushing across a piece of paper which she promptly crumpled and tossed aside without even opening her eyes.

Strike that. She was absolutely sure that she didn't like it. In fact, she was pretty sure she hated it.

She reached across the bed again, knocking Toby's alarm clock off the nightstand grasping at the emergency cigarette and lighter she'd hidden under it – the only thing Toby hated more than her smoking was walking up to an alarm – and lit it, inhaling deep, all before opening her eyes. She instantly got the urge to close them again, as she laid eyes on the long, jagged crack in the ceiling, and the fan that didn't work, and the peeling 'Catcher in the Rye' poster on the wall that Toby had gotten her to try and be cute – it hadn't worked.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as her bare feet hit the cold floor, wrapping a shredded sheet around herself as she made her way out to the kitchen. Starting the coffee maker, she sank down into the kitchen chair where she'd woken up at 3 am with a book stuck to her face. It was still open to the same page, she noticed, tracing along the thin paper, the feel of it against her skin making her cringe. Well, at least Toby hadn't messed with it…she hated when he touched her things.

There hadn't been a sense of 'we' or 'our' in a long time, Spencer realized, as she let her eyes skim the words, not retaining a single one of them. Sure, it was their apartment, it was the one they shared, but there was her side of the bed, and his food, and her books, and his posters…they were two people living in one apartment, and unless there were candles and a lot of alcohol involved, well, they were just two people living in one apartment.

Spencer didn't know what had happened. She could remember being so in love with Toby that it made her ache, and she could remember now, when everything ached except for how she felt about him, and the in-between was nothing but a blur. She closed the book, rising and fixing herself a cup of coffee, raising it to her lips, inhaling deeply.

She had never expected to fall out of love with Toby Cavanaugh, but she had, somehow, and for the first time since high school, she wasn't prepared to deal with it.

Spencer set her mug down, tracing her fingertips along the rim as she took another drag on her cigarette, beginning to contemplate the merits of cereal versus a Starbucks run before class, when her phone began to vibrate in the other room. Normally, she would have rushed for it, but as the tone she had set specifically for the sender began to seep into the room, it's soft, low tones pulling at something inside her, she continued to mull over the contents of her cupboard as the corners of her lips pulled up into a small smile.

Now that was something she was prepared to deal with.

 

Aria waited with baited breath, fingers placed lightly against the screen of her phone, ready to type out a response if need be. Her focus was intense, her whole world shrinking to the letters she was waiting to see appear on that screen. So much so that she didn't hear Ezra calling her or feel him tapping on her shoulder, only jolting to attention when he waved his hand in front of her face, making her jump.

"Sorry…" She breathed, gripping the edge of her chair as she set the phone down gently on the table, looking up at him. "I was just…thinking…"

"No, I get it…" Ezra leaned over, kissing the top of her head, resting a hand against her stomach. "Pregnancy brain, it happened to my mom when she had my little brother, it was the weirdest thing…"

"Right…" Aria said, relaxing slightly, covering his hand with hers. Twelve weeks. Early, especially after a miscarriage. Too early to tell anyone, so no one knew. No one but her and Ezra, which was beginning to make her feel sick – and it wasn't just the morning sickness. "I knew that…my mom with Mike, I don't remember much." Her hand moved to cover her phone as it began to vibrate, her heart leaping into her throat.

"Well…I think I means everything's going right." Ezra said, his lips hitting her head again. "So that's good news…" His hands moved to rest on her shoulders, and Aria struggled not to cringe. Something had gone wrong. Something had gone very, very wrong, and she wasn't sure what, exactly, because it had never felt wrong to her, not for a very long time. Maybe it was the miscarriage, maybe it was his longer and longer hours at work, maybe it was her father's illness, or her brother's attempted suicide….whatever it was, it had either made her feel like it was wrong…or see that it had been wrong the entire time.

"Babe, don't you need to go?" Aria asked, tilting her head back to meet his blue eyes, once clear, now filled with worry. She swallowed hard as the phone vibrated again, shifting in the chair. "You have class."

"I do." Ezra sighed, and there was a reluctance quietly coloring his tone – he genuinely wanted to stay with her, and the thought of his devotion…well, it made the guilt solid and palpable, rising in her throat. "I do, but…" He glanced toward the door, his words coming to a quiet close for a moment as he traced the top of her head with his fingertips. "Call me, with whatever…don't hesitate." He pressed his soft lips to the top of her head before he took strides towards the door.

Aria watched him. And there was guilt. There was guilt filling her up from the crown of her head to the pit of her stomach, and it was solid like metal and it hurt. It did. She couldn't pretend that it didn't, and that's why she pushed herself up off the chair and went after him, but only for the moment.

It was just that the other thing felt so good, it cancelled out the guilt.

 

It was almost two o'clock by the time Spencer finally heard the tone again, secluded in a corner of the library with a mountain of books around her, stacked so high that she could barely see above them, enveloped by the musty smell of old paper and decaying ink. It was one of the only places she felt normal, and, dare say it, safe. The only other place wasn't normal, and it certainly wasn't safe. (Hint: it wasn't home with Toby.)

She knew it was coming before the phone even went off, her hand placed delicately on the smart phone, ready to text back at a moment's notice. The only surprise came when it rang, instead of softly playing the text tone, and it was so jarring that she literally toppled over a large stack of books as she jumped away from it.

Dodging the venomous look from a pointdexter across the library – what did he care? They were the only two people there on that particular Wednesday afternoon – she slowly picked herself up and answered the phone as she stooped over to start restacking the books. "Hey." She said softly, not bothering to whisper, stopping as she brushed her fingers over the cover of a particularly old volume, not sure how it had gotten tucked into her things.

"Hey." Aria said, sitting up, unconsciously resting her hand on her stomach as she did so, tracing the pattern on her dress. "I can't talk for long, but – "

"But what?" Spencer interrupted, as she pushed herself back into her chair, pulling off her reading glasses, biting at the end of one earpieces for a second. "Ezra has class all day today, this is our day, which is leaving me really confused as to why you blew me off all morning."

"It's…it's complicated." Aria said, as she almost immediately picked up her wedding photo, tracing the bouquet – roses, dyed blue to match Ezra's eyes. It wasn't often she got wistful like this…she could probably blame it on her early pregnancy, but she was certain there was something more. "Spencer…I don't know if I can come tonight."

Spencer paused over the third line of text on the four hundred and eighth page of her textbook – History of the British Parliamentary System. "…but it's our night." She repeated, after a long moment, not liking the way her stomach suddenly crept up into her throat, or the devastation that threatened on the edges of her neatly maintained sense of balance. "It's our night, Aria. I…it's our night." She had learned how to speak without emotion, but she couldn't help the desperation that leaked into it.

"I know…" Aria's tone was pained as she set the wedding photo down, now twisting her wedding ring, eyes locked on the still bright silver, reflecting in her dark eyes. "I know, Spencer, don't…don't do this to me, okay?"

"Don't do this to you?" Spencer asked, her tone lapsing to the loud and the incredulous, earning her an audible scoff from Pointdexter twenty feet away. She flipped him off behind her stack of books, taking a deep breath. "I'm not doing anything to you. You're the only one who's doing anything right now."

"Spencer, I'm married – " Aria threw up her default defense, only to be cut off by Spencer once again.

"That hasn't stopped you before!" Spencer snapped. "I mean, it certainly hasn't stopped you from screaming my name when I – "

"I'm pregnant!" Aria covered her mouth right after the words exploded out of it. She hadn't meant to say it. Honestly, she hadn't. She just needed something to stop the assault on her hypocrisy, because she knew it was a fight she couldn't win, and she couldn't handle this right now. There was stunned silence on the other end of the line, so she took a moment to breathe deep,, finally uncovering her mouth as the sudden storm of anxiety faded. "That wasn't how I was planning on telling you, I…"

"…you're pregnant." It wasn't a question. Spencer didn't get her hopes up, even though it would be so easy to do, for just a minute, to pretend she'd heard her wrong. But she didn't, not after the disillusionment she'd faced. Hope seemed futile, and never had it seemed more futile than it did in that moment.

"…I'm pregnant." Aria echoed hollowly. "And…it's early, but they think it might stick this time." In the weeks following her previous miscarriage, she couldn't imagine a scenario where she would be unhappy to be pregnant again. But, here she was, and whatever she was feeling was so far from the preconceived elation that it could only be unhappiness.

"That's great." Spencer dug her nails into the cheap varnish of the table. God, she needed a cigarette in a bad way, she was almost twitching just thinking about it. It was a minute before she spoke again, her voice growing louder and swelling with venom she didn't even know she had until it came pouring out of her. "That's just perfect, isn't it. Ezra will be a great father, and you'll be the perfect little zombie housewife with the evening paper and his pipe and slippers after dinner, and you'll have your perfect little brat who will be reading Dickens by the time he's sixth months old, and you'll all be admiring Ezra's PhDs hanging above the mantel, and you'll be so busy with your pathetically perfect little life, that I'll just be some distant memory of a stupid mistake, if I'm lucky!"

"That's not it at all!" Aria gasped, tears creeping into her eyes even though she tried in vain not to get Spencer's words get to her. Only Ezra should have had that much power over her…but, then again, there were a lot of things in her life that were only supposed to be for Ezra that weren't any longer. "Spencer…"

Spencer stared at her phone as she pulled it away from her ear. She didn't hope for anything, that much was true, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. (As much as that came as a surprise to her.) Like it or not, her one night a week thing with Aria had become more than just that, much more. This hadn't yet bothered her, though, because she'd been able to ignore it and pretend like it hadn't happened that way, and she wasn't in –

Her train of thought derailed, and she pulled the phone back to her ear. "Fuck you, Aria." She said, clearly, concisely, ending the call. It wasn't so much that Aria was pregnant, or that she was threatening to end their one night a week entanglement that really couldn't be constituted as an affair that drove her to be so out of sorts.

It was the fact that Aria had put her in a position where she could no longer ignore how big this had become that upset her the most.

 

"You seem distant." Ezra's fingers traced patterns on Aria's scalp as she laid against his chest, ear resting against his sternum, claimed by the sound of his heartbeat. It was low, quiet, calm…nothing like Spencer's which was quick, and impatient, just like the woman it belonged to…

"It's just a pregnancy thing." Aria said, not opening her eyes, ashamed that she'd been laying there with her husband of almost two years now, and she was comparing him to a fling she'd had for a few weeks…a fling that was now apparently over. She couldn't lie, the idea left a bad taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with morning sickness, and thinking about it only gave her a headache.

Ezra's chest vibrated a little in a laugh, and he started petting her hair with longer, firmer strokes, as if he'd been holding back. "Probably…anymore of those pregnancy things I'm going to have to get used to?" He asked.

Aria pushed herself up kissing his cheek. "A few…" She whispered, trying to ignore the growing, gnawing sense of guilt that now ran in two directions, like the horror movie she'd watched one time long ago, with the guy tied between two trucks. She felt lie that….that if something didn't give, she was going to be ripped in half.

She thought she knew which half of the guilt she wanted to give, and so she kissed Ezra, shifting so that she was no longer laying against his chest, so that they were facing, twisting her hands in the dark curls he had grown out a little just because she liked them that way. It should have been right, it should have felt perfect, like it had every single time before. Was it just irony that it was only after their relationship was truly legitimized that it felt off?

Aria knew it was more than that, but she was kissing him anyway. She could always pretend. She had been pretending for the better part of the past year, and she could keep doing it. She had to. She had to keep pretending that she liked it as much as she used to as Ezra pulled her closer by the small of her back, hand curling in the fabric of her dress as he pushed her towards him. The way he traced her jaw with his fingertips, and the way he used his tongue…it was all supposed to thrill her and she was supposed to like it, or at least pretend to.

But she couldn't.

Aria turned away from him suddenly, the sudden shattering of the kiss robbing her of air for a second. Before Ezra could even get the words out, however, she spoke. "Morning sickness." She offered up the shaky excuse. (Although, now that she mentioned it, she did feel a little bit queasy about the whole thing.) "I…I need fresh air." She stood up off the couch, only turning back as Ezra's fingers brushed the back of her hand.

"Should I come with you?" Ezra asked, and almost, for a minute, as he looked at her with those eyes, with that kindness and concern in her voice, Aria considered it. They could go out, and he could get her ginger ale and they could sit on a park bench, and the other end would finally give, and she could breathe without worry.

But the moment passed as she realized that this was the end she wanted to give. "I'll be fine." She whispered, moving towards the door. "Don't wait up."

 

It was a little past nine by the time Aria finally got to where she was going – a small motel on the edge of the city that they'd already reserved and gotten the keys for with cash and assumed names. Spencer was always C. Holden, and she was always F. Scout, and on their nights where sleep didn't come easily, they would read to each other and laugh about how fitting their name choices could be sometimes.

But there was no laughing as Aria pressed the key into the lock. She wasn't even sure if Spencer would be there, after the way things had gone. But this place, this scene, felt more right than her home, with Ezra, felt more real, felt vibrant and interesting and for once, worthwhile…like her time was no longer being wasted as she waited for the rest of her life to begin, because her life was right there.

She hesitated for a moment, afraid to see the room empty like it surely would be, but she turned the key and pushed the door open, her stomach both sinking and lifting as she saw Spencer, laying across the bed with her eyes on the ceiling, a cigarette between her lips. (Judging by the haze in the air, it was her third or fourth one.)

Even though Spencer wasn't looking at her, Aria new she knew she was there. But there was a wall of silence coming from her, so finally, it was Aria who spoke. "You're here."

"It's our night." Spencer said, and the dull tone to her voice made Aria cringe. "Of course I'm here. I don't abandon people."

"Spencer…" Aria sighed, displacing the smoke. :Come on, you have to listen to me. I - "

"I already listened to you…and I heard enough." Spencer said, remaining stationary, holding her cigarette away from her with two fingers, towards the small, open window. "I get it…it's too messy. Believe me, I know what affairs or liaisons or whatever you think this is can do, and I'm not going to be the person that fucks up your life. You deserve to be happy, and if he really makes you happy, then don't let me and my cynicism get in your way."

"Spencer…" Aria trailed off, taking a few steps towards the bed, wringing her hands, picking at the black nail polish that she still sometimes wore. "Don't do this. You didn't give me a chance to explain myself, I…" The words escaped her for an instant, and Spencer seized the dead air.

"No, you don't need to explain yourself." Spencer swung her legs over the edge of the bed, putting out her cigarette on the night table. "I understand, I really do. You want – "

"Don't tell me what I want!" Aria snapped suddenly, unable to take it. It was all too much. Constantly being faced with the choice between Ezra's calm, constant care and Spencer's volatility and vulnerability...it was too much.

On paper, it shouldn't have been a choice at all, but this wasn't paper, this was life, and what looked good, what sounded good and logical and right, right for her and for her baby…well, that was paper. Thin and colorless and easily torn.

And then it gave, and Aria, who was in the process of reaching out to steady herself on the wall, practically lunged forward, suddenly and firmly kissing Spencer, her momentum sending the two of them down onto the bed, hands cupping her face as Spencer's legs wrapped around her waist, and it became what they had practiced so many times, but also much more. Aria wasn't sure why…it wasn't any different, and yet it was, in so many vague and unspecific ways. The kiss was deep and desperate, and Aria wasn't sure If either of them could find their way out of it, they were both so enmeshed. Spencer kissed like it was the only way she could breathe, rolling them over so she was atop of her, but careful not to put her weight down on her, which, frankly, only made Aria want her closer, wrapping her arms around her neck. The heat came in swells and waves, each lasting longer and longer, beyond her expectations, defying reality, almost, as they pushed her towards something, towards Spencer.

She twisted her fingers in the hair at the back of Spencer's neck, pulling slightly, the action pulling a low groan from the back of Spencer's throat as she pushed her against the floral patterned bedspread, Aria practically shaking as she touched her, trying to unbutton her shirt, the fabric slipping out of her grasp each time Spencer breathed, her chest rising and falling heavily as she continued to kiss her, moving her lips against Aria's, burning up from lack of air, and from heat, and from the feel of Spencer against her, wrapping her legs around the taller girl's waist to pull her closer. This was real, this was tangible, it was vibrant and it leapt off the paper in a way Ezra could not, could never.

Teeth pulled at bottom lips, and hands pulled at fabric and chests swelled, and hair pooled around them, and they were the world, they were the whole universe, every written word, and every thought. Hands traced curves and fingers tangled in hair and dark eyes met equally dark eyes as the kiss finally broke, leaving the both of them trembling.

"I think I love you." Aria gasped, her filter just completely broken, her walls torn down, the words slipping out as easy as air as she gazed up at Spencer, who looked equally stunned and pleased.

After a moment, Spencer leaned down, brushing her lips against Aria's ear. "What's love got to do with it?" She whispered. "What's love got to do with anything? There's love, and then there's this…this is destiny. Bigger than us…bigger than love." A dark chuckle. "I knew you couldn't stay away…"

Even Aria had to admit, as Spencer kissed her again, that she was right.


End file.
